


Meleth-nin/My Love

by RinzlersGhost



Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Other, Reader Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-18
Updated: 2021-01-18
Packaged: 2021-03-16 01:48:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28823238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RinzlersGhost/pseuds/RinzlersGhost
Summary: An angsty/sad piece that is Elrond x Reader. Reader dies saving elves at Helm's Deep.
Relationships: Elrond Peredhel/Reader
Kudos: 13





	Meleth-nin/My Love

**Author's Note:**

> Le melin - I love you  
> Meleth-nin - my love

Stolen looks, soft whispers, breath dancing across skin when no one was looking. You and a raven-haired elf lord had become inexplicably close. You were no warrior and stayed in Imladris after the fellowship left, but the Lord of the Valley had come to know that your heart was fierce.

It started as a curious friendship that delved into something more, something intimate. Long walks in the Valley to forage herbs turned into long walks in the Valley to know each other, to taste the salt and sweat on each other’s skin, to feel the rush of blood pumping and beating hearts tangled together among the dewy moss and misty mornings.

You provoked each other, loved each other even though words could be the least of your concerns. You made each other better people; some would even call it fate. Others would have frowned on your mortality but it only made you cherish your time together.

You were tucked among warriors of the Galadhrim. It was reckless, rash, foolish, but you knew that the price of this battle was too high. You were a flash of the silver armor, small enough to evade blades and stick daggers into orcs to save lives. You were bloodstained when you rescued the commander; his eyes widened as you faltered, the blow taking you to your knees.

You were exhausted beyond measure and they just kept coming. “Y/N!” Aragorn’s shout met your ears too late and you felt his arms circle around you, pulling you away from the fighting as blood gushed in rivulets, soaking through your armor too quickly. “I will get you to healers!”

“Let me go, Aragorn.” Your voice sounded hollow, strained even for your own ears. “Let me go.”

“But...” You cupped your hand to his cheek, smearing him with blood.

“Tell him... that I have always loved him... that I will always love him.” You whispered.

“Tell him yourself.” Aragorn’s eyes filled with tears as your strength faded, your hand slipping from his cheek, your chest falling and not rising again. The light faded from the Elvish adornment on your brow. He had no choice but to take it and keep moving.

Long after the battle was over, Aragorn clutched it between his fingers. The Elven commander found him, tears tracked down a face full of grit and grime. No more words were to be exchanged, only tears, only sorrow.

The Lord of Imladris did not grace the towers of Helm’s Deep with little intent. His eyes took in death, the ruined wall, the killed Elven warriors, their blood mingling with the blood of men. He had no intent originally to come, but something... something cold drew him here. They mourned their dead, bodies laid to rest and then he saw you, your hands folded together peacefully. The wound that ravaged your body was horrible.

“No. No!” The scream tore from his lips as he sank to your side, burying his face against your side, swathed in fabric. You were so cold, so pale. Tears long forgotten burned in his eyes as his shoulders shook in agonizing sobs. The truth was a terrible burden. He would never see you again, never taste you again, never have you again. The Elven circlet on your brow no longer shined with light. His moonstone was gone, no more than a silver stone that had once burned so brightly with your love.

“I love you.” He whispered brokenly, lips trembling. Long after many had come and gone, he remained, his breaths coming in unsteady pants as grief ravaged his body. You were mortal. Even if he sailed to Valinor, he would not know peace. “ _ Le melin, meleth-nin.” _ His voice caught and shattered again and again.

“And Y/N loved you. Had always loved you, will always love you.” Aragorn whispered, his hand on the raven-haired elf’s shoulder. Part of him wanted to shake Aragorn away, to be left alone in his own misery. Instead he pressed a kiss to your lips gently, his hand cupping your cheeks as he surrendered himself to the sorrow.

There was a war to be won. He did not rise from you the same ellon. He took your circlet for his own, giving you the mark of the Lord of Valley and bore the silver stoned circlet to mark his sorrow, to mark his pain. He went down as a lover, struck by grief; he rose as a warrior, his eyes cold and determined.

“I will not let your death be in vain,  _ meleth-nin.” _


End file.
